You’ll probably walk right past it. Seriously. If you’re wandering around Hoxton Square looking for a neon sign or a velvet rope, you've already missed the point of Happiness Forgets bar London. It’s just a nondescript door and a flight of stairs leading down into a basement that feels like it’s been there since the dawn of time. No fanfare. No "look at me" marketing. Just a red awning and a reputation that carries more weight than almost any other bar in the East End.
Great cocktails. No wallies.
That’s the unofficial motto, and honestly, it’s all you really need to know before you head down. It’s a subterranean haunt that somehow managed to survive the fickle trends of Shoreditch while staying fiercely relevant. While other spots were busy installing indoor swings or serving drinks in miniature bathtubs, Happiness Forgets just kept making world-class drinks. It’s small. It’s dark. It’s loud in the way a good party should be.
The Anti-Speakeasy Vibe of Happiness Forgets Bar London
Most people call it a speakeasy. They’re wrong. Founder Alastair Burgess has been pretty vocal over the years about hating that term. To him, and to the regulars who have been propping up the bar for over a decade, Happiness Forgets bar London is just a neighborhood bar. It just happens to be a neighborhood bar that consistently ends up on the "World’s 50 Best Bars" list.
There’s no secret password. There’s no phone booth entrance. You don’t need to know a guy who knows a guy. You just show up, hope there’s a stool, and settle in. The lighting is low—low enough that you can’t tell if your date is blushing or just overheated—and the brick walls are stripped back to their bare essence. It feels lived-in. It feels real.
In an era where every bar looks like it was designed specifically for an Instagram grid, this place feels like a rebellion. The furniture is mismatched. The candles are dripping wax everywhere. It’s gritty but polished in all the right places.
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What You’re Actually Drinking
The menu changes, obviously. But the DNA of the drinks stays the same. They focus on "High Rent" spirits and "Low Rent" prices, or at least that was the original ethos. Nowadays, London prices are what they are, but you still get incredible value here because the technique is flawless.
Take something like the Tokyo Collins. It sounds simple, right? It’s basically gin, yuzu sake, lemon, and soda. But at Happiness Forgets bar London, they balance the acidity of the yuzu against the botanical weight of the gin so perfectly that it ruins every other Collins you’ll have for the next six months.
They also do a lot of "sophisticated simplicity."
- The Penicillin is a staple here—ginger, honey, scotch, and a float of Islay malt.
- They love sherry. If you see a drink with Manzanilla or Amontillado on the menu, order it.
- The Perfect Storm is another heavy hitter, using dark rum and ginger to create something that’ll put hair on your chest.
They don't use 15-ingredient house-made bitters or liquid nitrogen. They use high-quality booze and precise measurements. It’s the difference between a chef who uses a thousand spices to hide a bad cut of meat and one who just salts a perfect steak.
The Logistics of Getting In
It’s small. Like, 50-people-max small.
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If you’re planning to head to Happiness Forgets bar London on a Friday night with a group of six, you’re basically asking for a miracle. This is a spot for two people. Maybe four if you’re lucky and willing to wait at the bar. They take bookings, and honestly, you’re a bit of a "wally" if you don’t book ahead for a weekend.
However, they do keep half the tables for walk-ins. This is a rare move for a bar of this caliber in London. It keeps the energy high and prevents it from feeling like a stale, invitation-only club. If you show up at 5:00 PM on a Tuesday, you’ll get a seat. If you show up at 10:00 PM on a Saturday, you’ll be standing on the sidewalk with a lot of other hopefuls.
Why It Outlasts the Competition
London’s bar scene is brutal. Concepts die every week. So how has this basement in Hoxton stayed on top since 2010?
It’s the staff.
The bartenders here aren't just "mixologists"—a word they’d probably laugh at. They’re hosts. They know when to leave you alone and when to jump in with a recommendation. They move with a kind of frantic grace that you only see in high-volume, high-pressure environments. They aren't trying to be your best friend, but they’ll make sure your glass is never empty and your vibe isn't ruined by some loud-mouth at the next table.
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They also don't over-complicate things. The music is usually soul, funk, or old-school hip-hop. It’s loud enough to mask your conversation from the people sitting three inches away, but not so loud that you have to scream. It’s a delicate balance that most bars get wrong.
Acknowledging the Shoreditch Shift
We have to talk about the neighborhood. Shoreditch isn't what it was in 2010. It’s corporate now. It’s flashy. You’ve got huge clubs and expensive rooftops everywhere. Amidst all that "new money" energy, Happiness Forgets bar London feels like a relic of an older, cooler East London.
Some people argue that it’s become too popular for its own good. There are complaints about the wait times or the fact that it’s "too dark." But those people are missing the point. If you want bright lights and quick service, go to a chain pub. If you want a drink that makes you sit back and go "wow," you wait for the basement.
Actionable Tips for Your Visit
Don't just wing it. If you want the full experience, follow the lead of the regulars.
- Book the 'Nook' if you can. There are a couple of corner tables that offer the best view of the room and the most privacy.
- Talk to the bartenders. If you don’t like anything on the menu, tell them what you usually drink. They have a massive "off-menu" repertoire and can whip up a classic Negroni or a weird twist on a Daiquiri without blinking.
- Eat before you go. They don't really do food. Maybe some olives or nuts, but this is a drinking den, not a bistro. Hit up one of the Vietnamese spots on Kingsland Road first.
- Mind the "No Wallies" rule. Don’t be the person taking photos with a flash. Don’t be the person shouting into your speakerphone. Just be cool.
Happiness Forgets bar London is exactly what it claims to be. It’s a basement. It has great drinks. It has no pretense. In a city that often feels like it's trying too hard to impress you, there’s something deeply comforting about a place that just knows it’s good.
Next time you’re in E1, look for the red awning. Go down the stairs. Order something with rum and lime. Forget your phone for an hour. It’s the best way to spend an evening in London.